


Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy

by reinadefuego



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Age of Apocalypse, Community: genprompt_bingo, Earth-295, F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 21:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20103916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinadefuego/pseuds/reinadefuego
Summary: With Jean on top and in control, Logan's not exactly in a position to make demands.Written for Gen Prompt Bingo Round 14: Wild Card.





	Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy

_"...I ain't your Logan."_

She isn't his Jeannie either.

Smells the same. Tastes the same. _Feels_ the same. God, he can't take a breath without that scent of hers filling his nostrils, flooding his brain with dopamine and endorphins.

But this ain't his Earth. His Jeannie's dead. The memory of her dying in his arms has been seared permanently into his brain. Still, the kisses are real, the scent is real, the morphine-like effect she has on him is real.

_"I don't care."_

Her skin's smooth, red hair choppy and short, and the right strap of her yellow top's hanging down around her bicep. Then she kisses him, takes control of the situation and these past few moments all coalesce into something that transcends physical chemistry.

She's not his Jeannie. She's dominant, powerful, alive; been living for so long in a world that doesn't allow weakness to exist. Logan understands that this kind of life changes people, oftentimes for the worse.

And sometimes, Logan tells himself, people just become lonely as a result of life's bullshit.

_Jean Grey._ He rests one hand on her back, the other on her hip, allows himself to succumb to those base instincts he's meant to suppress. Fortunately, these lead him to a different kind of red. An aching, yearning red that's been chained down for too long.

The glass bottle he was holding hits the ground and smashes into a million fragments, splashing his boots and ankles with alcohol. Next thing he knows, Jean's legs are hitched up around his waist and she's telepathically guiding him to her room.

He kisses her neck, breathes her scent in till it wraps around his brain and has him hard and wet beneath his jeans. Logan's eyes are almost glazed over like this isn't the first time he's gotten laid since they took up residence in Cavern X, and just about _everything_ is bulging.

His tank's too tight, too restrictive, so he imagines her burning it off and turning the cotton to ash. It makes sense she'd be in his head, spying on his thoughts and darkest desires right before they take the final step, and that's exactly what happens. He feels the heat of the flames against his skin as his shirt ignites, revealing rough chest hairs and pectoral muscles that should be covered in faded scars.

"Logan."

Her voice is heavy with need, a rasping growl that sends a shiver down his spine and makes his dick throb. She bites his biceps with her nails while straddling him, almost pushing him over the edge then and there. God help him, he won't last long if she keeps this up.

Jeannie telekinetically unzips his jeans and slides them down to his ankles without another word. His boots hit the floor with a thump and three pillows are subsequently stacked under his head. She's staring at him as if she intends to do something downright dirty and he's all but rolled over, ready to let her peg him or eat him out or do whatever it is she's thinking about.

Like a dash of cinnamon in an apple pie, there's an underlying spice to her scent; her body's producing all kinds of pheromones and his nose is picking up on every single one. It's driving him nuts with every passing second but with Jean on top and in control, Logan's not exactly in a position to make demands.

"What you thinking 'bout, Red?" he asks, barely clinging to his sanity. He wouldn't have taken him for a briefs man either, if that's what she's wondering. They keep everything in place, at least, and they're far more comfortable when wearing denim.

"You," Jean murmurs. She leans down, whispers something in his ear that sounds a lot like a plan, and grinds herself against his length without wasting another moment.

Fuck it, Logan thinks, the universe owes him one after all the shit he's been through these past few days. "Huh. Fancy that, I was just thinking the same thing."


End file.
